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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25074406">The Lifebood of a Crane (paper or otherwise)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dots/pseuds/Dots'>Dots</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Persona Tumblr Prompts [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Persona 5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Humor, M/M, Mutual Pining, One Shot, Post Game, Post Royal, Sexual Themes, Very Minor Royal Spoilers, goro being stupid! as per usual</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 03:01:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,182</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25074406</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dots/pseuds/Dots</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Goro’s new job leads him to discover that dealing with both a crush and an idiot while flipping burgers is, unarguably, the worst turn his life could’ve taken.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Akechi Goro &amp; Sakamoto Ryuji, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Persona Tumblr Prompts [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1815862</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>136</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Lifebood of a Crane (paper or otherwise)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>One shot based off of tumblr prompt "He loves you, you know? He's just afraid of admitting it."</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Hello! Would you like to try our Big Bang Special Combo Shot-Straight-Through Promotional Meal for ‘Thy Father of Corruption 2: The Daughter of Rejection’ for ¥850?”</p>
<p>Goro wanted to quit.</p>
<p><em>You need this job. You need this job, </em>he’d repeat to himself each time a customer decided they were feeling peckish. <em>You will have no money if you quit and then you will have no home and then you will drop out of college and then you will die. </em></p>
<p>He’d left the bureau after graduating. With his past plans of an 18-year life expectancy having slipped down the drain, he hardly had a reason to stay. High school had been an uphill battle with cases of murder and robbery breathing down his neck, and he’d hesitated to even make an <em>attempt </em>at trying to juggle his priorities in university. Dropping the detective gig meant dropping the media attention too, which gave him the breathing room he knew he needed but never really had.</p>
<p>The problem was, after three years of fading out of fame and living off his savings, he realized it wouldn’t stretch as far as he’d predicted. He hadn’t accounted nearly enough for the expenses that came with the unwelcome enforcement of trying to live as a proper human being. His bank account was growing meager. If he wanted to keep living (which was arguable) in the way that he was (which he did) he’d need an income. Almost anything would do, as long as it would bend and break to his schedule.</p>
<p>And, all things considered, he technically had connections here. And ever since… <em>that</em>, the pay had actually increased to a respectable amount. The management had rehired, retrained, and improved. It was fast food, but it was livable. Nothing shameful about being livable.</p>
<p>And god fucking dammit he had already done three interviews with no hires and he needed food other than half-cooked ramen noodles and bread slices.</p>
<p>“Can I get you anything else, sir?”</p>
<p>That didn’t mean he couldn’t loathe every minute.</p>
<p>It was bad enough that he had a job at Big Bang Burger. And bad enough that he’d been desperate to get it. It was bad enough that he had to bring in his homework like some anguished used-to-be honors student now getting barely passing marks. And christ, it was bad enough that each time a customer walked in, a hamburger-shaped icepick would slam itself into his frontal lobe, forever ingraining the memory of his premeditated brain murder of the former CEO of this very establishment.</p>
<p>All of that, and he couldn’t stress this more, was bad enough. It was entirely shitty all around. Completely awful, and damning, and <em>humbling</em>, though he hated to admit it. He’d like to say it couldn’t get any worse. That this was the end of the line, get off the train before it turns around, don’t get stuck in the never ending cycle of beef patties and sesame seed buns.</p>
<p>But, god, of all the coworkers--</p>
<p>“Ya know,” said Sakamoto, leaning down on the front counter after their customer had left, “I dunno if clenching your teeth like you’ve got peanut butter stuck in there counts as <em>‘service with a smile.’” </em></p>
<p>Sakamoto Ryuji. The beach blond who put the moron in, well, <em>moron</em>. He, who had walked in on Goro’s second day and loudly declared, <em>‘I thought I smelled something. What’s this a-hole doing here?</em>’ Really, who else could he tolerate spending eight-hour shifts with—greasy stoves, piss poor customers, and the ruthless scent of Lysol on tile included?</p>
<p>Ah, right. Anyone else.</p>
<p>Goro pressed his lips together. “Hm. Well you know, <em>I</em> was almost certain that elbows on the counter was a fireable offense.”</p>
<p>Sakamoto snatched himself up in a second, elbows up high. He hung there and looked around the empty restaurant.</p>
<p>He pouted. “Not cool, dude. That’s only when there’s customers.”</p>
<p>Goro raised his eyebrows. He was really just going to stand there? He looked like an idiot, or a chicken. A hybrid that if anyone could pull off, it would be him. He was making a great show of it, too.</p>
<p>Sakamoto narrowed his eyes. “Unless you’re a snitch.”</p>
<p>Goro spoke in his most syrupy sweet voice. “Are you implying then, that your job is in my hands? An entertaining thought, Sakamoto.” If it were only that simple to <em>really </em>get him fired. Unfortunately, their manager seemed to love his energy. Every moment he spent enthusiastically mopping floors and singing into the handle was a moment Goro could’ve been writing soliloquies of his growing and newfound hatred for Carly Rae Jepsen.</p>
<p>Sakamoto folded his arms in a huff. “That’s what I’m talkin’ about, man! Look at your fake-ass smile.” He shook his head. “And I get customer service blows ‘n stuff, but you use it for everything. Like, lighten up dude. Take a break or something.”</p>
<p>Sakamoto said things with such confidence, such surety. It made Goro’s teeth grind.</p>
<p>“I’d prefer to keep my job. Though, if you’d like to pay my rent for me, you’re more than welcome,” he said, and gave Sakamoto that sugary smile he’d been arguing against.</p>
<p>He acted like he hadn’t even heard him.“Maybe it’s ‘cause you’re so gloomy all the time, your face just doesn’t know how to work it. Look it, check me out.” Sakamoto pointed his thumb at himself and flashed a toothy smile. “Just like that. All natural, bro! It’s easy. Come on, you really try it this time.”</p>
<p>Goro very clearly did not. He stared with the most obstinate and <em>‘stop-trying-to-have-a-conversation-with-me’ </em>look he could muster. He’d communicate it telepathically, if given the chance.</p>
<p>“That doesn’t look like trying to me,” Sakamoto said, clearly not satisfied.</p>
<p>Couldn’t they just sit in silence and wait for their fabrication of getting-along-time when the next inevitable customer came in?</p>
<p>“Perhaps, and please let me know if this is too complicated, I simply have no intention of trying, because I don’t believe there’s anything to fix.”</p>
<p>“Nah, that’s not it,” replied Sakamoto, as if he was being thoughtful.</p>
<p>Another reason why he was completely obnoxious was because the longer they knew each other, the less that Goro’s flawless stone-faced looks worked. Sakamoto kept spewing hot air, like it was all he knew how to do (and Goro suspected that truly was the case). He’d gained some kind of tolerance, and it was tedious to work around.</p>
<p>Sakamoto leaned back down, previous elbow warnings forgotten. “I bet you’re the kinda guy who’s super ticklish, so you act all boring so no one suspects it.”</p>
<p>“I’m not,” Goro snapped.</p>
<p>Sakamoto raised his eyebrows. “Quick reply there, buddy.”</p>
<p>Goro didn’t answer to that. He didn’t owe it to him. This was pointless; why did Sakamoto find such pleasure in talking about pointless things?</p>
<p>Sakamoto slouched further down. “So it’s the silent treatment now, man? You’re checking all the boxes over here,” he waved his finger through the air. “Check, n’ check, n’, check.”</p>
<p>Goro was getting a headache. “I don’t want to talk about this.”</p>
<p>“Betcha you’re super ticklish. And like, one of those cry-laughers.”</p>
<p>“Sakamoto, did you hear what I just said.”</p>
<p>He stretched up from his position on the counter. “Like if I poke you in the side, I bet it would make ya jump.”</p>
<p>“Do not.” He could just try it. Goro would bend his finger back so far it’d break. He wondered if that would be a viable option to get him to stop talking sometime.</p>
<p>“Didn’t say I was gonna,” Sakamoto said defensively. He rested his arms behind his neck. “You’re just proving my point more, though.”</p>
<p>He was annoyingly stubborn at times. Once he found a niche with Goro, he’d hack his way in and grab on like a tick. Bother him like it was his last chance he’d ever get, as if they didn’t work shifts together four times a week.</p>
<p>Goro had to constantly remind himself he <em>was</em>, at least, getting paid for this. “Can we talk about anything else?”</p>
<p>Sakamoto went quiet, just looking at Goro now. It made him tense up. Was Sakamoto really going to try and poke him? He meant it—he’d break his hand.</p>
<p>“Ya know, there <em>is </em>something I wanna talk to you about,” he said.</p>
<p>Goro did not like the sound of that. “Oh, really.” He tried to sound like he’d been told he was about to be given a lecture on the intricacies of lentil soup. Which, perhaps could be more interesting than whatever topic Sakamoto was about to pull out of his ass.</p>
<p>Sakamoto sniffed. “Yup. It’s about Akira.”</p>
<p>Oh, he <em>really </em>didn’t like where this was going. “Sakamoto, I—”</p>
<p>“When’re ya gonna like, confess.”</p>
<p>Goro visibly winced. <em>Dammit. </em>He knew he’d bring this up one day. He was absolutely infuriated Sakamoto knew about that, and he hadn’t even told him. He’d been making guesses and Goro had been just tired enough during his shift to let a hint of a sigh out, and Sakamoto had taken that to new heights. Another example of conversations being had that Goro would’ve just about died to get out of.</p>
<p>Sakamoto was still staring at him. Didn’t he have anything better to do? Goro knew they didn’t at this good-for-nothing job, but what was so hard about just acting busy. You’re <em>pretending </em>then at least, and that’s something.</p>
<p>“Well, dude?” asked Sakamoto.</p>
<p>Any conversation was better than that one.</p>
<p>Mother of fuck.</p>
<p>“I…” Goro started, adjusting a piece of his hair, “I suppose I am a little ticklish.”</p>
<p>Sakamoto’s face lit up. “Dude, for real? Called it,” he said triumphantly. Had Goro not known him as well as he did, he’d think the divergence in conversation was a trick to get him to admit he was a bit… touchy. But he did know him (unwillingly or not), and he wasn’t one for games like that.</p>
<p>“Most people are; it shouldn’t be a surprise. It’s skin sensitivity, nothing more.”</p>
<p>Sakamoto shrugged. “Still funny you admitted to it.”</p>
<p>Sure, very hilarious. How many facts was it now that Sakamoto knew about him? Most pointely ones that he’d rather not have shared under any circumstance?</p>
<p>“Satisfied, now?” Goro asked, but it wasn’t really a question. He didn’t plan on expanding. This was embarrassing enough.</p>
<p>“Nope,” he replied, “cause that’s great and all, but I really gotta know the game plan.” He leaned in close to Goro, and he in turn leaned farther away.</p>
<p>“There’s no <em>‘game plan,’</em> Sakamoto. Don’t get so close to me.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, yeah, sorry.” He moved back, obviously not finished. “Come on, though, you gotta have something,” he pressed, and back down on the counter he slouched.</p>
<p><em>‘Something</em>.’ Yes there was <em>something</em>, and that was to keep his mouth shut and go about his life keeping each and every one of those mortifying feelings to himself. It was humiliating enough that Sakamoto knew. Telling Akira? He didn’t even want to imagine it. He’d rather face Okumura-san herself and ask her to buy one of their Shot-Straight-Through combo meals.</p>
<p>“There’s nothing. And I don’t plan there to be anything. And it’s not really much of your business, is it?” Goro could feel himself growing irritated.</p>
<p>Sakamoto melted further into the counter. “I just don’t get why you’re not gonna ask him out if you like him. You might as well, man. It’ll be fine.”</p>
<p>What simple ways of thinking. Do this, get that in return. Black and white, right and wrong. Spill your fleeting moment of vulnerability and try not to think about the extensive hole of commitment you’re burying yourself in. One misplaced turn of phrase to Akira could forever rupture the sorry excuse of acquaintanceship they’d been flip flopping through for the past three years. Akira was a blank slate and simultaneously the person he knew best. He knew him, but didn’t really, and he could never tell what he was thinking. Suddenly he was gambling again, and this time it came entirely unwelcome. Risks you face before death and risks that you’ll keep living through no matter the outcome tasted different. One was tangy and sweet and thrilling, the other was bitter shit. Not to mention that Akira was too kind to him for his own good. He couldn’t even tell what was a lie.</p>
<p>But, Sakamoto didn’t need to know all that. “You say that like there’s nothing to consider. As if I’ve never even given this thought. You do not belong in my head, Sakamoto. And I do not need to give you, an obvious outsider on the entire dilemma, any sort of justification for why I’m going to continue abstaining from something as trivial as a confession.”</p>
<p>Sakamoto huffed at him. “What if I said that I gua-ran-<em>tee</em> he’s not gonna say no to you.”</p>
<p>Goro was already sick of this. What, had Sakamoto expected his heart to skip? His pulse to rise? That just the very thought of mutual feelings would send him into some flustered mess? Please. He told the tingling feeling going up through his legs and down his arms and up the back of his neck to shut the fuck up.</p>
<p>He couldn’t stay quiet for long. Sakamoto could and would get ideas. “Then why doesn’t he just tell me that himself? Why are <em>you </em>playing wingman for him?”</p>
<p>“Cause he’s not gonna say anything cause he’s gotta be worried he’s gonna freak out you and your crazy attachment issues, dude.”</p>
<p>Of course. There it was. The blind bet. Sakamoto’s one-way thinking at it again, and Goro would not have it. “I’m not going to start playing some game with him about the complexities of whatever idea of <em>consent </em>he has in his head. I don’t need his sympathy, and I am certainly not looking for it. I don’t have time for something messy and half-assed. I don’t want that, and surely he doesn’t, either. If he feels any way about me, he’d ought to tell me, because then maybe we’d find some kind of leeway. But I will not let him sit there and wait for me to make the first move, like a key element in his plan. This is not some teenage romance, and I am not a caricature of his love life. He can wait patiently all he’d like, but I’m perfectly content as I am now.”</p>
<p>Sakamoto seemed a little stunned.</p>
<p>“Man, he’s just...” He trailed off. They sat in silence.</p>
<p>So ways still existed to stop Sakamoto from rambling on. He was sure he’d regret saying this later, for a multitude of reasons. He didn’t hate Sakamoto—even <em>dislike </em>felt a little strong—but he always talked about things that Goro had no interest nor inclination to discuss. Maybe silence between them was for the best, for now.</p>
<p>Sakamoto broke the quiet. “He loves you, you know? He’s just afraid of admitting it. That’s all it is, dude.”</p>
<p>Goro inhaled. So, he wasn’t done. “Love... is an entirely different conversation.”</p>
<p>“Okay, fine, you want me to say he <em>‘like-likes’</em> you, like some fifth grader? ‘Cause he does.”</p>
<p>Goro didn’t reply. He’d made his point.</p>
<p>“He isn’t playing one of your weirdo mind games,” Sakamoto continued. “I think you’re thinking too hard about this. He’s just a guy. He just wants to make sure you’re all comfortable and shit. ‘Cause it’s not like we don’t know about the B.S that was going on with you.”</p>
<p>Goro stood tall, not letting any of what he said get to him. “I am not looking for his pity.” A fine thing to say while working at a Big Bang Burger in a bright yellow shirt and starred apron. It didn’t matter. He didn’t wear this with pride, per say, but he wouldn’t ask anyone to feel <em>sorry </em>for him.</p>
<p>He didn’t exactly want to be seen. Especially not by Akira, but of course he’d made habits of visiting. That was just like him, and it was just like his pity, too.</p>
<p>Sakamoto looked frustrated. “He ain’t pitying you, man, he’s tryin’ to respect you! He knows you got things to go through on your own and he’s trying to give you space and stuff.”</p>
<p>Goro clicked his tongue. “If you know that’s <em>his </em>tactic, why are <em>you </em>trying to pressure me into this?”</p>
<p>“Cause I don’t care, dude!” Sakamoto began, and then stopped himself, and promptly looked very guilty. “Well, okay. I do care. Like, I do. But sometimes…” He looked like he was trying to pick his words out carefully. He had an idea, just no way to form it.</p>
<p>He settled. “Sometimes, you just gotta get laid.”</p>
<p>At this point, Goro found himself shocked that he wasn’t banging his own head against the counter.</p>
<p>“<em>Excuse me,</em>” he spat.</p>
<p>“You’re twenty-one years old! Bruh, I know you haven’t gotten any,” Sakamoto argued. “Your gay ass with emotional problems? Get outta here.”</p>
<p>“This is <em>not—</em>”</p>
<p>Sakamoto put his hands up nonchalantly. “And like, yeah, no judgey stuff, take your time if you gotta. But have you considered it? Tell me. I betcha you haven’t.”</p>
<p>Goro opened his mouth, expecting to reply with an incredibly well thought out ‘<em>fuck off,</em>’ but the automatic doors slid open, and suddenly Goro was all smiles and greetings, so what came out instead was, “Hello! Welcome to Big Bang Burger! Would you—ah.”</p>
<p>Sakamoto snorted loudly, and Goro wanted to kick him so bad.</p>
<p>And actually, what was stopping him? Sakamoto had earned this, and it’s not like <em>this </em>customer would care.</p>
<p>Because who else could’ve been summoned by the trouble than Akira Kurusu himself, strolling in so casually through the doors. As if he hadn’t just become the most unpleasant topic of conversation Goro had ever had with Sakamoto. Speak of the devil was an understatement. Or perhaps he was the devil himself.</p>
<p>“What the eff, man!”</p>
<p>“Hey, you two,” said Akira, hands in his pockets and clearly bagless. He didn’t even register Goro’s kick, like that was just some normal occurrence. Somehow, that made him angrier.</p>
<p>“Yo,” said Sakamoto, recovering annoyingly quickly. Goro wondered if he should’ve reconsidered breaking his finger.</p>
<p>Sakamoto reached out to Akira for a fist bump. “You don’t have the cat with ya?”</p>
<p>Akira bumped him back. “Nope. Just me today.”</p>
<p>“Sweet,” Sakamoto replied, a mischievous smile growing wide. Goro hated the look. It was the most dastardly shit-eating grin he’d ever dared to make. So, knowing Sakamoto and his terrible poker face, he had thought up some idiotic ploy.</p>
<p>“What’s up with you?” Akira asked, and thank god it wasn’t directed at Goro. Sakamoto’s obviousness did not go unnoticed.</p>
<p>“Oh nothin,’ nothin,’” said Sakamoto, entirely conspicuous. “I gotta go, though, grind never stops. Super secret stuff in the back.”</p>
<p>Goro glared at him. So <em>now </em>he would pretend to be busy?</p>
<p>“Burger secrets,” Akira said, and Sakamoto gave him a finger gun in reply. He walked off without a word, but apparently felt the inclination to jerk his head back at Goro, as if he didn’t know exactly what he was plotting.</p>
<p>He sighed. No amount of alone time would ever compel Goro to confess at a Big Bang Burger of all places. At least Akira tended to be a little more bearable in conversation. He hoped he’d be an in and out customer. “Can I get you anything?”</p>
<p>Akira looked at him for a moment. “You look flustered.”</p>
<p>Goro felt himself twitch. He wasn’t <em>flustered</em>, like some preteen who couldn’t hear the word genital without bursting into laughter. If anything, Sakamoto had caught him off guard with his stupidity. He obviously was not one to be so affected by such a topic. He was an adult, and a professional. Once again, he would not think about the fact he was currently wearing an orange visor.</p>
<p>“I’m positive that isn’t a menu item,” he replied, keeping his pleasant smile plastered on to prevent any stray annoyance from showing.</p>
<p>Akira examined him closer. “Do you have a fever or something? You look red.”</p>
<p>Goro drummed his fingers against the counter. What was he supposed to say? ‘<em>Sorry, Akira, Sakamoto just decided to kindly push the image of you railing me as a form of twisted therapy into the forefront of my consciousness. Would you like any drinks?</em>’</p>
<p>“I’m fine. I’m not the type to go to work sick,” he decided on instead.</p>
<p>“Really?” Akira didn’t seem convinced.</p>
<p>Goro folded his arms. “While living in a society where health is determined by the trust of the majority, I have no plans to spread my germs to an unsuspecting businessman, in that I expect the same from him.”</p>
<p>Akira considered that for a moment. “Something embarrassed you, then?”</p>
<p>Goro’s expression turned sour. He was not in the mood for a debate. “Everyone seems to be presuming things today. Have I missed a memo?”</p>
<p>Akira didn’t miss a beat. “Ryuji said something?”</p>
<p>Goro dragged his fingernails into his palm. He was hardly being <em>that </em>obvious. He wasn’t like Sakamoto—a bumbling idiot who couldn’t keep a straight face. Akira was just acutely good at reading people (namely, reading <em>him</em>), and it drove Goro up the wall. It was unfair, for one thing. Akira continued to maintain blank expressions in the face of clowns and hookers, keeping his inner thoughts behind lock and key. And, as of more recently, he was the one person Goro desperately wanted to hide every wandering emotion from. Just his luck: he fell for the bastard who analyzed people as a side job for his savior-complex living.</p>
<p>This was making him more frustrated. “Would you just order?”</p>
<p>Akira looked at the menu, but Goro knew it was bullshit. He ordered the same thing every time—a shake and a burger, no tomatoes. He certainly already knew what he wanted, but was just causing trouble in the meantime. What an annoyance. Goro punched it in and made no move to go and cook. If Sakamoto was going to have his <em>“business”</em> in the back, then he could stay there and do his job.</p>
<p>“Sit over there. We’ll bring it to you when it’s done,” he said, and Akira silently obliged. He gave a small smile before he turned, leaving Goro completely alone with his thoughts as Akira sat at his table and scrolled through his phone.</p>
<p>He couldn’t believe the timing of Sakamoto’s comment to Akira’s unseasonable entrance. Things always seemed to fall into place with Goro, just not the right places. The right place, but a little down and to the left, the <em>left</em>, he said. He wished Sakamoto would mind his own business, let him quietly pine until his untimely death—which kept getting put off, might he add.</p>
<p>Sakamoto emerged from the back end of the restaurant. He was holding the bag of presumably Akira’s food, and his shake. He waved them enthusiastically.</p>
<p>“Go on, dude,” he smirked.</p>
<p>Goro was blunt. “No.” He’d pissed him off enough today. He wasn’t going to walk over there and serve the food. Sakamoto’s little idea of love, romance and marriage in a burger joint would have to wait. Ideally, it would get itself stuck in wet concrete, and drown way down under where no one could see it and where the light of day would never reach.</p>
<p>Sakamoto seemed to catch his drift. “Jeez, fine. Huffy, huffy.”</p>
<p>He walked over to Akira with a spring in his step, and they started chatting idly. Goro couldn’t hear. In all honesty, he was trying to tune them out. His headache was growing worse. Pounding in his head, every light too bright and repetitive music blurring his thoughts. And, of course, there was the elephant in the room, who was whispering to him Sakamoto’s crude suggestions, and the irritating notion that maybe he was right, just a little bit.</p>
<p>He needed to get himself together. He was acting like some horny teenager. Get fucked, you raunchy elephant.</p>
<p>Sakamoto left to let him eat. He made a show of going back to the other end of the restaurant, all while wiggling his eyebrows at Goro. In turn, Goro made a show of rolling his eyes and planting himself facing away from Akira. It made Sakamoto laugh, for whatever reason, and Goro just ignored him.</p>
<p>He watched the door idly and tried to relax. He’d been clenching his teeth, and his jaw ached. He tried to focus to get his headache to fade into obscurity. He couldn’t find much to concentrate on, was his issue. Other than the obvious, which he would ignore without remorse. He wanted to go home. No lights too bright there, no sloppily cleaned windows, and especially no crush (the word left a bad taste in his mouth. Boy who had left him emotionally compromised after giving him no reason to deny he had worth in the world and kept him up at night thinking about the way he really tried to <em>will </em>him back into existence when he could, god, have anything else in the world, and he wanted him. Was that a better option?) sitting out of view, chewing quietly and doing absolutely nothing to draw so much attention to himself. At home he could drown it all out in a cold bath, let himself think of nothing but his numbing toes and pruning fingers.</p>
<p>“Hey, catch,” Akira said, suddenly there and startling Goro out of his daydream. He tossed something onto the counter. Goro did not catch it.</p>
<p>It was a napkin, all folded up in a careful way. It didn’t hold the shape well, but the intention was pretty clear. “Um. A crane?”</p>
<p>“Yup. Present for you,” he started, rubbing his neck. He had the nerve to look bashful. “I got bored.”</p>
<p>Goro hadn’t noticed him making it. Which, alright, did make sense, he was purposefully keeping his neck away from that entire half of the restaurant.</p>
<p>“Sorry. We aren’t quite the height of entertainment here.” Goro lightly touched its head. He hadn’t known Akira could make these. “Well, thank you, I guess.”</p>
<p>Akira pushed his glasses further up his nose. “You’re welcome to name him.”</p>
<p>“I think that I won’t.”</p>
<p>“That can be pretty trendy, too,” he replied. “I’ve gotta go. Class. Tell Ryuji I said bye.”</p>
<p>“Bye, dude!” Sakamoto shouted from the back. There was that tiresome enthusiasm again.</p>
<p>It made Akira smile. “Nevermind, then. See you.”</p>
<p>Goro just barely lifted his hand by the wrist to wave. “Bye.”</p>
<p>Akira turned, gave him a small trill of his fingers, and left. Sakamoto did not return to his exit, and Goro savored the moment. It was just him and the crane, now.</p>
<p>It was pretty shoddy. Unfolding, and barely standing up on its own. Cheap paper napkins were not the ideal material for origami, it seemed. He watched it slowly fall apart, wings losing shape and the head relaxing into its neck. Akira had hardly stayed long, so that meant he was probably pretty good at this sort of thing. He wouldn’t have guessed.</p>
<p>He thought about how it might look on proper paper. The creases sharp and crisp, the ends pointed and still.</p>
<p>What would Akira’s hands look like while they worked? He could hear the sounds of the folding, and the wedging, clean paper being bent and rippled. Delicate fingers, working through, meticulously checking every last inch. Sometimes a pinch, just where it’s needed. And then finished, folded tight, wrapped together in itself. Very quick work with the touch of a hand.</p>
<p>“The heck is that?” Sakamoto asked, getting an actual jump out of Goro.</p>
<p>“What?” he gasped, and took a second to collect his thoughts. At work. Sakamoto came back. In a Big Bang Burger. Headache present.</p>
<p>Good fucking god.</p>
<p>“It’s just…” Goro pressed his fingers into the side of his temple “It’s a paper crane. Akira made it.”</p>
<p>Sakamoto let that sink in.“You tellin’ me you were just sitting here staring at the thing Akira made you?”</p>
<p>“I wasn’t,” Goro replied, mentally slapping himself for letting his guard down over a <em>paper crane</em>.</p>
<p>“Uh, you literally were.” Sakamoto got uncomfortably close to him again. Goro physically moved away, because now was not the time.</p>
<p>It didn’t deter Sakamoto whatsoever. He put his hands on his hips and gave an annoying grin. “Bro, you gotta tell him… You’ve obviously got it preeetty bad.”</p>
<p>Goro was fed up with this. Their conversation needed to end, or he thought he might explode. “I don’t, ‘<em>have it bad</em>,’ Sakamoto. Stop bringing this up.”</p>
<p>Sakamoto smirked at him. “You so do though, is the thing.”</p>
<p>“I don’t. Leave me alone.”</p>
<p>He shrugged his shoulders, and kept his mouth shut. He was acting so haughty, like he’d won the argument. Which, he hadn’t, for the record.</p>
<p>That stupid crane. All it’d done was make things worse. And what was it even doing? Sitting here crumbling away into uselessly folded paper. A cheap napkin made of other recycled cheap napkins. Clean and crisp paper was a long sought after dream, a fantasy and nothing more.</p>
<p>That was just it really, he thought. This is what he meant. Akira would try and ‘fold him up’ and he’d inevitably fall back down. He didn’t know just what fantastic method he’d try, but it wouldn’t matter—he was made of what he was made of, and nothing would hold him steady. Trying was pointless, risking for naught. It would be better for everyone if he stayed just how he was and didn’t overstay his use.</p>
<p>He would not fit into Akira’s plans or his pities. He couldn’t.</p>
<p>“…Bruh. What are you even talking about.”</p>
<p>Ah? “What?”</p>
<p>No. He had not said that out loud. Sakamoto did not just hear all that nonsense.</p>
<p>Sakamoto was giving him a funny look. “You’re not a napkin, man.”</p>
<p>God, shit. Shit shit shit. “I—I know that. This is just—” The unpleasant feeling of blood rushing to his face was just as intolerable as it was unpreventable.</p>
<p>“For real? Cause you sure sounded like you were calling yourself a napkin.”</p>
<p>Absolutely unbelievable. How unruly was he that he’d just spouted all that like it was nothing? He couldn’t believe he had to explain himself now, but letting Sakamoto get his own ideas was undeniably worse. “It’s supposed to be… symbolic, Sakamoto.”</p>
<p>He could practically see the ball rolling in his head. <em>That wasn’t difficult to understand,</em> <em>you dunce.</em> Every second of this humiliating scene felt like a knife turning in his stomach.</p>
<p>“Why does your brain work in such effed up ways. You gotta work on that,” Sakamoto said, not letting up his judgemental look.</p>
<p>Goro crossed his arms, trying to make his mortification appear like annoyance. “Don’t you start with me. As if you ever have anything useful to say. At least I’m—I’m <em>thinking</em>, here.”</p>
<p>That riled Sakamoto up a bit. “I’m thinkin’! I almost flunked literature so maybe I’m not so good at this <em>‘analysis’</em> stuff, but you know what? Hear me out.”</p>
<p>Goro did not want to hear him out. He continued despite that.</p>
<p>“I get it. You got your problems. But I really don’t think callin’ yourself a shitty crane is like fair or whatever? Like, you’re a whole dude.”</p>
<p>He did not appreciate how genuine Sakamoto sounded. It was odd, and it felt awkward coming from him. He didn’t want to feel guilty for being rude to him earlier, either. Just another topic to bother him out of sleeping.</p>
<p>Sakamoto went on. “Gahhh, it feels weird sayin’ this, but like, you’re not a napkin, okay! And Akira doesn’t think so either. You’re more… like, complicated? Napkins don’t pay taxes or anything.”</p>
<p>Ah, alright. It was mostly bullshit. He could ease the guilt away in one fell swoop.</p>
<p>Goro’s disinterest seemed to show itself to Sakamoto. “Just, okay. Lemme get my thoughts here. You gotta like… Okay, you ready for some real advice? You gotta be your own first step thingy, dude. I didn’t get my own shit sorted out until I actually <em>tried </em>to. And I’m not sayin it’s easy. But Imma tell you right now, your first step is gonna be to stop thinking you’re a napkin, or a bucket, or a plate of green beans, or whatever else you come up with. And I mean it, man.”</p>
<p>Goro knew he had things to say to that. He had thought out replies and phrases that Sakamoto would need more headspace to begin to understand. But none of them came to him. So he decided to stay threateningly quiet.</p>
<p>It was well received. “Okay, okay, you’re gettin’ mad, I can tell. I’m gonna take my break,” Sakamoto relented, and turned on his heel. “I ain’t really trying to tell ya what to do, but give it a thought or two, alright? ‘Least for Akira’s sake,” he said over his shoulder, and left Goro almost more alone than before.</p>
<p>It wasn’t even Akira’s sake Goro was worried about. Not in the way Sakamoto seemed to think. And he didn’t need to be told he wasn’t some inanimate object—he wasn’t <em>that </em>out of mind.</p>
<p>Any sort of sensible argument would have to come to him after the fact, apparently. To tell him this wouldn’t be a<em> “first step,”</em> more like a hundredth. How many paces did crawling out of the cave he’d trapped himself in count for? How many miles had he gone by now, barefoot and bleeding all the way?</p>
<p>Such a stupid conversation. Needless too since, for whatever reason, his filter decided to leave him to fend for himself. Just another addition to his embarrassing excuse of a shift today.</p>
<p>The paper crane sat still on the counter, though it hardly resembled one anymore. He almost felt bad. He had his typical pit in his stomach, but nothing exactly to pinpoint it on. Was he wallowing in that much self-loathing?</p>
<p>Perhaps.</p>
<p>Goro adamantly refused to have any more dramatic revelations at his part time job, so any introspections would have to come later.</p>
<p>He put the crumpled crane in his pocket. It was certainly not going to be a crane once he took it out again, but he didn’t really know what else to do with it. Throwing it away felt wrong to him. Though he wasn’t sure exactly what he was going to do with it when he got home.</p>
<p>Akira hadn’t given this to him in hopes of causing some mental anguish. Or at least, he assumed so. Sakamoto had said he didn’t play mind games, but if not that then what was he doing? It felt better to know it was a game. That way, there was something about Akira’s mystery of a consciousness he could pry through.</p>
<p>Was he reading into things? For sure. Reading too deeply into anything had been a talent of his for as long as he could remember. It had saved his life before. Many times, and in the most difficult of times.</p>
<p>This crane wasn’t life threatening, but it felt like it was. Not in the thrilling way, but in the shitty way.</p>
<p>His shift was nearly over. Which reminded him: Sakamoto had surely already taken his break. He was a dip, but Goro preferred his own thoughts to any conversation they’d had today. And that was saying something, since getting out of his own head was usually a much needed relief that he’d take any chance he got.</p>
<p>He was overthinking, and there was nothing he could do about it. He would continue to overthink until someone stole his brain and dunked it in acid. Where was the enjoyment otherwise? It was all he knew how to do.</p>
<p>And even he didn’t overthink this—if Akira had given this to him in earnest and in playfulness. If Sakamoto hadn’t been overtly pulling his leg through their shifts today. There wasn’t anything remarkable about it. If there was a chance that maybe things were just okay, and getting better, and he wasn’t a living metaphor for a tissue. To say he invited him out for coffee, and Akira surprised him with a new little creation. One less spur of the moment and something almost sweet. He’d never drop his pride so low as to ask for a lesson, but if he did, he could learn to make something too. And maybe he wouldn’t hate every moment of it, and maybe he’d like getting so close, and <em>maybe </em>he’d appreciate the mistakes as much as the praises.</p>
<p>…Hm.</p>
<p>But that was just a fantasy. And nothing was all that great about it. Anything could go wrong in any number of ways, his own interventions being just one category.</p>
<p>Maybe it was the headache, or the dragging shift, or the terrible lights, or the distant humming of his coworker, but Goro must’ve been caught off guard today. Because otherwise, why else would he have thought, not long and not convincingly, that maybe despite everything...</p>
<p>It could be nice. Just for a little bit. Maybe that didn’t sound quite so bad.</p>
<p>Not so bad at all.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>tumblr: <a href="https://honeydots.tumblr.com/">honeydots</a><br/>twitter: <a href="https://twitter.com/honey_dots">honey_dots</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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